


Tadaima

by ALovelyDeath



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: All on Seidou's part, Experimental Style, Multi, Pining, Salvation, for both of them, so implied seiakimon if you squint because it's me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 11:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALovelyDeath/pseuds/ALovelyDeath
Summary: They're home





	Tadaima

**Author's Note:**

> Brought on by the horrible 'what if' headcanon I had of Amon dying during his fight with Donato and Seidou bringing him back to Akira. Because I like pain.
> 
> Time to never post anything for another year.

His arms ache.

The weight he carries is more than he should be able to bear but he forces himself to endure, to continue walking to their destination.

It’s not just the weight of the man in his arms that weighs Seidou down, tying him back to this earth and this body that he’s tried for so long to shrug off, it’s his sins as well.

His sins were not something he thought of often. He knew he had sinned but had accepted the fact that a sinner like himself could not be redeemed so he sought no redemption. Hell would be his final resting place and he was at peace with it.

But if that was the case than why do his feet continue to carry them to their destination, to a place he likened with salvation?

Only one person could offer him forgiveness and salvation now and that was where his feet carried them, despite telling himself he wasn’t looking for redemption; that he was only doing this for the sake of the woman waiting for the man in his arms.

He knew he was beyond redemption so why did he suddenly crave it?

He told himself he was only doing this to save the woman more suffering, the long search through ruins, the painful discovery. They had inflicted enough suffering on the woman through the years they spent in the shadows.

He may have deserved hell but the man in his arms did not. Having never strayed from the path of justice and light like he did, not tempted by power or corrupted by hunger like he was. Maybe that desire to not leave the man and bring him back is what drove him to bear the colossal weight and carry him to the one thing Seidou promised himself he would never search for. The salvation of his soul.

He promises God that he will take on all the man’s sins if it meant the one in his arms could rest at peace.

The weight is so, so heavy. But Atlas bore his weight without complaint and Seidou’s is a thousand times lighter. So he must endure. If not for his sake than for hers.

They crest the hill and at the bottom he can see a swarm of people, ghoul and human alike and their scents waft up to him. He’s close enough to hear the shouting and cries of relief and despair alike.

And then a familiar face turns their way and he forces himself to not look away, to look at her straight on.

She stands slowly from her crouched position and stands for a moment as if not believing what she is seeing.

Then she’s running toward them at full speed.

_Stupid girl_ he thinks watching her stumble as she races towards them, an emotion he can’t place anymore clear on her face. No mask to hide behind. She’s as naked as the day she was born.

She shouldn’t be exerting herself this way, she should still be recovering from surgery all those months ago, but that matters to no one as she approaches them, slowing to a stop just out of reach.

Seidou’s steps falter, his arms shake and suddenly it’s all too much to bear. He falls to his knees with Amon’s body still slumped by his chest.

He’s failed.

He’s failed to even bear this burden.

He can’t stand to see the expression on her face. Wants to turn and flee like so many times before. Flee to a private place where he can lick his wounds in peace. But where can you go when the world is ending?

Thin arms wrap around his neck and root him to this spot, this patch of broken pavement where everything, all their lives collide and intertwine again.

His voice is a croaky whisper.

“We’re home.”

**Author's Note:**

> This style is quite a bit different for me and I'm still not sure how I feel about it so thank you for powering through <3


End file.
